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I have been very aware of wind during this experience.
In the initial crisis, I took many walks through the park in which I felt the wind and sun on my arms, rippling my arm hairs, warming the follicles.
Then there was a tornado that swept through Brooklyn, dropping huge tree limbs on hapless cars. I understood that.
The sound of wind outside while I am in my room with my cats.
Then today I was teaching and noticed how the wind was rustling the leaves outside the classroom, making the most beautiful spooky percussive sound, revealing the lighter undersides of the leaves (elm? maybe elm), and I thought: well, nothing stays still.
Wind.
Otohime 